


A Bear is For Life, Not Just for Christmas

by Dangereuse



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: 'As you wish' is not the only way to say 'I love you', Bane has ALL of the bear feelings, Bane is John's big ol' bear, Bane is werebear, Crack, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, He loves his little mate, I was not kidding about dubious consent, Impregnation Kink, It's okay to blame Teresa for everything, John is his mate, John is oblivious, John is so very surprised, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Please heed, Pretend really hard, Put this in a line and sniff it, We'll just pretend bears mate for life, werebear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangereuse/pseuds/Dangereuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bane's never gone through mating season with an actual mate before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bear is For Life, Not Just for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains dubious consent. I cannot stress this enough.

Bane had never had issues with is bear nature until he’d met John. He’d always shifted once a month, careful to do it in some undisclosed area deep in the woods. He’d wander around for a whole day, and then, when the relentless itching under his skin had stopped, he’d slip back into his human skin. True, he’d always been territorial and leery of sharing intimate spaces with other werebears, but _no_ bear could do so comfortably, if at all.

 

That had nothing on this.

 

Nothing could prepare Bane for the uncontrollable impulse to smother John in his scent every morning before John could rise out of their shared bed, to grasp John in tight arms every time he returned home with a foreign scent. Nothing had ever felt that this steadily increasing anxiety about John’s lack of weight as summer came to a close.

 

John had a beautiful healthy body; a body, fortunately, that John enthusiastically shared with Bane. John had always been small under Bane’s hands, maybe nearly even bird boned, but now some crazy wire in his brain had been tripped and now Bane was near-panicking when John skipped lunch once. Bane had started to spend his free time at the grocery, carefully shopping in an effort to design a higher calorie diet for his little John.

 

“My patrol’s been so slow lately.” John would smile at him, as he picked at the breaded foods Bane would cook him. “I need to watch my girlish figure.” It started an itch inside him that could only be soothed when John would allow Bane to run his hands all over him, to pleasure him with his hands and inundate him with his scent.

 

But his fear over John’s weight even crept into those quiet moments in the aftermath between the two of him. Bane often stroked John’s belly in bed after their intimacies, unduly worried that he’d strained John too far on his unnecessarily small diet. There was no excess fat to be found there, just the soft skin and toned muscles of John’s abdomen.

 

It was _devastating._ Bane held John ever closer as the nights cooled, to keep him warm and prevent the loss of what little weight he had. John was too _small_. Bane couldn’t help but worry. 

 

“Okay Bane,” John said one night, a determined look on his face as he perched lightly on Bane’s chest. “Do you have an impregnation kink? It’s okay. You can tell me.” There was a beautiful little flush on the crests of John’s cheeks.

 

Bane froze with his hands wrapped around John’s trim ( _too trim)_ belly. 

 

John lowered one of his hands, gently stroked over where Bane’s hands rested on his body. “It’s okay. Lots of people do. We could, do…things…if you’d like.”

 

Bane’s mind panicked. How could he tell John that he worried about his weight; that Bane wondered if he ate enough to be strained by Bane’s appetite for him every night. That Bane fretted John was too thin for the upcoming winter months, his body too slight to withstand both the cold of winter and the harshness of Bane’s love. Bane knew it was irrational, but that only made the fear worse.

 

John could sense his panic, knew John saw it in his scarred face. He saw it all and acted. “Oh look,” John said, voice a little too awkward and a little too flat, “I’m starting to show.” He flexed his stomach muscles until there was just the slightest protrusion of his belly.

 

Bane’s brain froze from its panic. He was too overwrought with love at this moment. John would do this to spare him from any embarrassment. He opened his mouth, to talk about John’s too healthy eating habits and the need for more proteins and fats and no more thrice-cursed celery.

 

Only, what came out was a whisper, paired with a caress against the too-small belly of his beloved. “You are lovely full with my child.”

 

****

 

 

Bane tried to be more subtle in his watch of John’s weight, but it was impossible to stop completely. Bane spent long minutes of anxious worrying encircling his hands around John’s thighs to note the circumference, he made sure to lift John entirely at least once every day to test his weight and he marked the fit of John’s pants with his hands every chance he could get his hands on him.

 

John’s small stable weight was crippling to this new anxiety and made some part of him that was indistinguishable from his Bear flame to ferocious life: Where once he had reveled simply in John’s sleek feel under his hands, a small dark part of his brain enjoyed how John’s smallness made John so deliciously dependent on him to provide.

 

John, of course, still knew something was up.  He went along with it for a few days, before his temper snapped.

 

“Jesus Christ, Bane. Put me down! I’m not your doll.” John snapped his fingers and wriggled violently aloft as he was in Bane’s arms. “New rule! You can’t pick me up anymore! Not until you tell me why you suddenly think my legs aren’t functional!”

 

It was easy enough to hold him still even through his squirmings, and Bane carried him to bed despite John’s grumpy scolding. He laid John down where he wanted him and rubbed until his whole body was lax under his hands. “Surely you would not deny me the simple pleasure of holding you, habibi.”

 

“There’s something very wrong with you,” John grumbled into the sheets. Bane kneaded at the tightness in John’s shoulders in reply, until the tiny, almost kittenish rumbling in the back of John’s throat could no longer be construed as arguing. 

 

***

It got worse. Now Bane was tailing John two-thirds of the time when he left their den. No trip to the grocery store was too petty, no jaunt to the convenience store too trivial. Bane found himself tracking every illicit cigarette and half eaten bag of Doritos that made its way into John’s body.

 

***

 

Bane only realized _what_ exactly was wrong with him when he came home hours early to see Gordon sitting in their kitchen.

 

It was _intolerable._ Bane growled as soon as he caught his scent, soft and human in his kitchen. He reeked of man, of old overbrewed coffee and cheap ink and cigarette smoke. Only the pseudo- familial scent of John on his clothes kept his beast back. How dare this man impose on his territory, on his scented mate? How dare he insert himself into Bane’s den?

 

Bane went to John immediately. He fought not to hover over John or roust Gordon from his seat, even if it meant looming in the corner of his kitchen and fighting the urge to growl low in his throat.

 

And then, as a surge of relief watched over him as he watched Gordon pack up his files to take his leave, everything slotted itself into neat lines in his head.

 

It was the beginning of mating season.

 

 Every werebear in the city was breaking out of their self-imposed solitude to seek a mate and couple. Bane’s body knew that John was his mate, had probably always known. It was just stumbling over the fact that John wouldn’t stockpile for the winter like every other werebear.  

 

Bane realized why he’d been following John. Why it seemed imperative to stare down the cashiers and fellow customers and random bystanders on the street while John had moved about his life. Why now it seemed like such a good idea to bat at Gordon’s head with his arms until his head burst like a ripe melon. 

 

He _had_ to prevent John from an outside mating. If John had been a werebear female, this would be his most fertile time, in which he’d require almost constant sex to ensure impregnation.

 

It was a shock to realize that his inner bear didn’t realize John was a human.

 

That was a…slight… problem.

 

Bane forced himself to take a deep breath, to inhale Gordon’s utter lack of aggression and his complete disinterest in taking John as his mate. Regardless of what his Bear believed, this mating season would not become an issue. John was _not_ a female bear. Bane had never wanted him to be. John’s body would fail to go into heat and his own body would fail to go into rut.

 

If Bane was more overprotective than usual, John knew what he was and had long come to peace with it. He was a werebear. John had dealt with past instances of his territorial nature with aplomb.

 

Generally.

 

Moreover, when mating season was over, the problem would go away. His mind would calm, and he and John could settle in for an easy winter. No more obsessively weighing John and checking his diet. He would be fine. He wouldn’t even have to worry until next year, and even then, it was a small price to pay for the pleasure of having John.

 

Until then, he could loom and growl over John’s shoulder at Gordon, and to smirk, pleased, when the man picked up and departed.

 

John grumbled, but allowed Bane to scent him thoroughly once Gordon left.

 

“I’m sorry I forgot to tell you Gordon was here,” John said, later that night, when Bane had successfully marked over John’s neck with his teeth and erased the scent of foreign male with their rutting. “You know he’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father. He feels for me like you feel about Talia.” John pet at Bane’s shoulders, long soothing touches that settled Bane’s blood and pushed back the territorial ire of his beast. “ _You’re_ my big ol’ bear.”

 

Bane rumbled pleasantly, and stopped fighting the urge to lay his whole weight on top of John’s body, just for a moment. It was soothing to have John claim him in such away. It pleased him to think that John would never be mated by anyone else, and that John _knew_ he’d never be mated by anyone else. Bane blew his breath into John’s hair, even more pleased that his scent on John was so thick everyone else would know John was mated to him too.

 

“Oof.” John pushed at his shoulders, protesting the weight. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re not scenting me, you big bastard.”

 

“That is readily apparent.” Bane nuzzled into John’s hair.

 

John squirmed again, bit down on Bane’s bicep to get him to move. “You know, when I first started dating you, I worried about whether or not you’d be interested in monogamy, being a werebear and all, but you seem to have taken to it quite well,” John said drily.

 

John’s words felt like recriminations, jerking him from his pleasant thoughts. Bane fought not to snarl. “I am not so inhuman as to underestimate the value of your continued companionship, but I am bear enough to know that you shall be mated by me and me _alone_.”

 

John stopped struggling underneath him. It helped that John was still.

 

“Yeah, big-guy?” John said after a minute, voice light. “No werebear-harems on the side for you? Just me?”

 

Bane’s hackles lowered. He saw through John’s attempt at humor to defuse the situation, down to where John was the small cub left alone before he could possibly learn to hunt. Down where John was too scared to demand the same commitment he gave so readily.

 

“I desire only you.”

 

John gave a jaunty little crooked smile. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’re not a slave to your nature. I’m just saying, sometimes some characteristics come out. There’s a guy down at the precinct that dated a werehyena, and he said she dommed the fuck out of him every time they slept together, just like the females do in hyena packs. You don’t seem to have any quirks like that.”

 

Bane was willfully obtuse, the conversation too close for comfort. “If you desire to be dominated you have only to say, beloved.”

 

John rolled his eyes. “Get off me, you big lug. Before I get a riding crop to use on _you_.”

 

***

It was custom for him to take the whole week of vacation off in the middle of mating season, when his aggression was high. A week for him to mark his own territory thoroughly and soothe his beast.

 

Bane often spent the time as a bear, entering a sort of hibernation. It ensured that he didn’t get into any fights; he could stay at home, undisturbed, and work out his aggression without fighting.

 

Bane had learned that lesson after all those years raising Talia. He’d never wanted to mount her, but he’d killed a few who had. Bane knew it was only his advanced healing factor that made the difference between the light scarring on his face and a perpetual dependence on painkillers.

 

That had been a good practice until he had shared his territory with John. Now, John would certainly notice a thousand pound werebear curled up in the space between their bed and the wall. John would definitely be concerned if he didn’t wake up for a week.

 

Bane made paces around his outdoor territory. He’d have to tell him about the hibernation, at least. John would be understanding, and might even offer to stay at a friend’s—.

 

No. Bane couldn’t allow John to spend that much time in someone else’s den. He would _reek_ of foreign, unfamiliar scent when he returned. No, he’d have to tell John and hope he wouldn’t be averse to spending a week sharing space with Bane as a sleepy bear. His bear would take no issue with John, would adore spending time with his mate, might even have a difficult time hibernating with John walking around, begging to be mated—.

 

He’d just have to figure out some way to keep John safe.

 

***

“I’m going to spend next week hibernating in the guest room,” he told John one morning, when he staggered into the kitchen. Bane turned the burner off the stove and slipped the freshly cooked scrambled eggs into a waiting Tupperware bowl.

 

“Yeah, sure,” John said as he hastily poured his precious coffee into one of their Thermoses. “Have you seen my leather holster? All I can find is the PVC one and that chafes my thigh when I—“

 

“Hall closet,” Bane said, as he forced the Tupperware with a fork strapped to the top into John’s hands.

 

“Great!” John teetered on tiptoe and bussed his lips over his chin, before breaking away for the door.

 

Bane swung him around and lifted him up for a proper kiss. He kept John’s arms tucked to his sides so he couldn’t forget and put down his breakfast.

 

“Mmmmm, Gotta go. Supposed to be at my shift ten minutes ago.” John murmured against his lips. Bane let him go.

 

Then John was out the door.

 

That hadn’t been too difficult.

 

***

 

On second thought, he should have made sure he’d had John’s entire attention for that revelation when he walked into their apartment the week he’d been planning to hibernate only to be smacked in the face with the scent of John’s sex.

 

Bane inhaled sharply immediately, nostrils flaring. Was John with _another bear_?

 

Only the rich, heady flavor of John’s arousal met his nose. John was pleasuring himself— _without Bane._

 

Bane didn’t even register the time it took to get to their bedroom, or the time it took for him to find himself at the foot of their bed, John’s dampened hand trapped away in his fist.

 

“Bane,” John smiled up at him, as if he hadn’t just been trying to _waste_ his seed in his own hand. “It’s about time you’re home.” John wriggled against the sheets, splayed his thighs open wide. “I’ve been waiting for you for—“

 

It was too hard to keep from kissing John then. Too hard to not fall upon his mouth like a starving man and eat away all of John’s knowledge of other persons.

 

John’s pheromones were in the air. He didn’t smell like fertile bear female, not even close, but the scent of his lust, the slick pre-spending from his self-pleasure was even better.

 

It was more than enough to trip Bane’s bear brain into rut. Bane bit at John’s lips, reached with both hands to pin John’s grasping hands to the sheets.

 

It was time to mate.

 

John made little surprised noises into his mouth even as his body surrendered to Bane. Bane had to mate John now, had to take him fast and hard right this second, to make John realize he was Bane’s to be mated. Bane brought both of John’s hands together above his head, to reach down where John took him inside so gracefully. John’s hole clenched against his fingertips, and the small human part of Bane’s brain cried that he needed some lube even as the bear side urged him to tuck his fingers inside to feel just how velvety soft John was on the inside.

 

It was painful to tear himself away from John’s mouth, but Bane forced himself to lean over into the small dresser table and find their bottle of lubricant. 

 

It was too hard to open the bottle with one hand.  Every instinct in his body cried out against releasing John’s wrists from his grasp. John needed to be _pinned,_ completely and utterly underneath him. John couldn’t be allowed to move, to escape from Bane’s arms. What if someone else mated him? What if someone else mated his beautiful John? John was _his._ Bane heard the growling in his own throat from somewhere far away.

 

Bane dropped his jaw down and clamped his teeth down on John’s throat. John froze, his whole body one hyperstill line of prey response.

 

“Bane,” John risked, the shallow movements of his throat increasing the pressure against Bane’s teeth. Bane growled into John’s throat. It was too hard to unlock his jaw to speak when he had John’s tender neck under his teeth. Instead he laved his tongue up against John’s skin, tasting him.

 

“Bane. I won’t move. I promise. I’m not moving.” John’s body was so lax, so loose against the sheets even as he could scent a small undercurrent of fear. The perfect mate. Yielding utterly to Bane.  Bane rumbled, gentler in his throat. He allowed his hands to relax around John’s wrists, even as he sucked the flesh of John’s neck deeper into his mouth and relished the dimple of John’s flesh as it bruised under his teeth.

 

“See. I’m yours. It’s okay.” Bane could feel John’s swallow beneath his teeth, the mechanism of his swallow resounding in his ears. “Bane. You’re Shifting.”

 

Bane felt it then, the bulk up of his shoulders, his teeth sharpening and dimpling into John’s flesh. For a brief moment, he wanted to bite deep. Deep enough that John would carry the scent of him his entire life, the shape of Bane’s jaws imprinted forever in his throat.

 

Bane withdrew his jaws, turned his head instead to resume licking the side of John’s neck with his tongue. He could almost taste John’s blood beneath the skin. “I have to have you.”

 

John shivered under his touch. “Bane---“

 

Bane’s voice hardened, and the muscles in his shoulders bunched and writhed in indecision over which form he would take. “You are my mate. I will not be denied.”

 

John wriggled beneath him. “Bane?” John gasped out, surprised. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

 

But Bane didn’t answer. He merely pressed his body up hard against John, against John’s hard cock lying against their bellies. John’s arousal felt so good, riding up against his stomach. It would feel even better once he was buried deep inside John. Bane squeezed his hand, hard, around John’s wrists. “I must mount you.”

 

Bane loosened his grip from around John’s small wrists. It was the work of a moment to grab the lube bottle and return to John.

 

It was a great relief when Bane re-secured his grip around John, pinning him to the mattress with his weight. It was so relieving, so powerfully relieving to know that John could not move without his say-so. Bane ran his hand down John’s body, stroking those sensitive spots that made John relax into the sheets so readily. “Wha—“ Bane lowered his mouth over John’s, the better to swallow his delicious sounds. Bane wanted to _eat_ them.

 

Bane moved his fingers, ran their slickness over the tight clench of John’s hole. John was always so small, the tiny furl of his hole such that it was sometimes hard to believe he could fit inside there, that John could stretch to accommodate Bane fully. Bane stroked, enjoying the squirm of John under his fingers, before he slid one inside.

 

John arched immediately at the penetration, and his mouth popped open in a perfect ‘O’. Bane knew John’s body so well now, had pleasured John for long hours with his fingers until he knew the exact spot to arch and press and the best place to drive John to gasp out and spread his legs wantonly wider. Bane knew exactly where to ruthlessly press to make John relax, to coax John’s body to loosen until it could accept him.

 

It was tempting to the Bear, to mount John now, to take John’s slender parted legs and press them wider, to force himself inside John like John’s entire body advertised. But Bane knew the sight of John tearing up at the corner of his eyes, the hurried, pained gasping when Bane forced John to take his body too early. Bane could not risk that, not when John would have to take him for days, would have to offer up his body until Bane’s rut had waned.

 

Bane tucked another finger inside John, crooking and kneading at John’s pleasure spot. John’s legs tensed, his thighs coming together in an effort to restrain Bane’s hands from stimulating the spot inside him. John tore his mouth away from Bane’s own.

 

John was breathless, his cheeks red and rouged from his arousal, his lips beginning to swell from the onslaught of his own. “Bane, is this a werebear thing? Are you okay? Do I need to call Talia?”

 

Bane flexed his fingers brutally inside him, to quiet John. His questions were unnecessary. John needed to be mounted. After Bane had proved his right to copulate with his mate there would be time to talk. 

 

John fell limp and gasping for a moment, eyes flickering shut. Bane watched his dark eyelashes flutter along for a moment Bane wanted to lick them. Then John squirmed and twisted his legs, bringing up the long length of them to press up and back against Bane’s sides. John wasn’t strong enough to push him away but Bane could feel the strain in those limbs as John pushed back against him.  

 

Bane preened. John was a good mate, a strong mate, even if he was small. When he was properly mated and bred, he would provide good strong cubs. And when John was fat and vulnerable with his cubs, Bane would protect and provide for them both. Bane ground his hard cock against John’s stomach. Yes, John would be stuffed so wide with his cubs, his flat tummy bulging out to house Bane’s no doubt considerably sized kits. John would be forced to waddle, nearly immobilized by the weight and breadth of Bane’s mark inside him. Bane would have to feed him, keep him warm. He’d have to protect him; he would have to smother John in his scent so that all rival bears would know that John’s belly was ripening with _his_ cubs inside.

 

John was moaning now, unable to speak as Bane filled him with another finger. Bane gasped, wordless to think he would soon sink inside John and fill him with his seed over and over again. “Bane,” John panted, breathless, around his fingers. “ _Bane!_ ”

 

It was too much. Bane knew that John wasn’t completely stretched; his wet heat was still too tight around his fingers, but Bane couldn’t wait. Bane _could not_ wait to loosen John any longer. He had to claim John now.

 

Bane withdrew his fingers, brought his own cock up to the small entrance to John’s body, and pushed.

 

John made keening sounds in the back of his throat as he was filled, small little noises halfway between pain and pleasure as John tried his hardest to take him all in. Bane could feel as John’s body clenched down around him, trying to reaccustom himself to shape and length of Bane’s cock.

 

Bane released John’s wrists to move his hands to John’s hips. He tilted John’s body, using his grip to shift John’s legs farther apart, to shift his pelvis to accept Bane all the way inside him. Bane crushed himself as close as he could, forcing himself to hold still as John clenched down, hot and wet, all around his cock.

 

John’s breath shuddered out of him as he took him all.

 

Normally this was when Bane would pause and pet the slope of John’s stomach, gentling John and holding himself still as John acclimated to his cock. Instead, Bane looped his arms around John’s legs and began to thrust.

 

John’s newly freed hands reached up to scrabble at Bane’s shoulders and his head flopped back against the sheets. He scratched at Bane with blunt fingernails, his entire body struggling to take all that Bane had to offer. “Bane, I—”

 

John was cut off when Bane tilted his hips to bring John’s prostate fully in line with the motion of his cock. He had to pleasure his mate and prove to him he was worthy of mating him. He had to prove he was the best mate to provide John with cubs.

 

John’s mouth fell open in surprise, his lovely head craning so he could stare down for one breathless moment at the place where they were joined. John made a beautiful sound when he saw Bane’s cock sliding into his hole. His lips formed that same perfect little ‘o’ before his head flopped back down upon the sheets and he reached for his own cock.

 

No.

 

Bane crushed John to the bed, untangling one of his own hands from John’s legs to swat John’s hands away.  John’s mouth popped open on a harsh little desperate cry.

 

Bane came. _Yes,_ His whole body seemed to shout. _Fill him_. He pinned John even further against the sheets, making sure he was as deep as possible so that every single drop of his semen landed deep inside John. His beast rumbled with pleasure. He had John, had made the first claim of many.

 

John wailed, scratching at Bane’s shoulders, flexing his hips against Bane for more stimulation. Bane moved his hand up against John’s belly, pressing down to increase the pressure on John’s prostate. He saw moisture budding at the corner of John’s eyes.

 

Bane had never been so glad for his baculum, the gift passed down from his distant bear cousins that made pleasuring John so gloriously simple. John was moving, writhing on his cock, even now, and he was still hard enough to fill him. “Oh God, don’t tell me you’re done big guy, I can’t, I can’t.”

 

Bane spread John’s legs wider in response and ground himself in the circles he knew John liked. John made little panting noise at each push.  “Do you wish to come now? I will mate you long hours, and I will have you either way,” the bear inside of him growled.

 

“Yes, yes, make me come now. Yes,” John fixated on. “I need it, Bane.” He rolled his hips back the way Bane liked, bared his throat to Bane’s gaze. “Make me come.”

 

Bane pressed harder against John’s stomach, angling himself in that perfect way inside his mate and thrusting deep.

 

John came all over his belly in a sharp gust of breath, his eyes blowing wide and his whole body clenching down and shuddering from the pleasure. Bane thrust through it, extending John’s pleasure as best he knew how.

 

Bane collected John’s release in his hand, scooping it up on thick fingers to bring to his mouth. John smiled up at him through his long lashes, reaching up to press his hands up against Bane’s chest. He gentled his thrusts inside John, shallowly rocking to avoid oversensitizing him too quickly.

 

John stroked Bane over his shoulders softly, as he came down from his high. “So, I’m guessing this is a bear thing.” Bane leaned over farther trying to hide his face in the crook of John’s neck, even though their height difference made it impossible.

 

Still he was driven to move inside John, to mate him over. There wasn’t enough seed in John’s belly, there wasn’t enough of himself inside John.

 

A horrible chill spread over his spine. He had to impregnate John. He had to.

 

John noticed, even in his satiation. He pet over Bane’s skin with gentle hands. “Do you still need me?”

 

“Yes.” _Always, I always need you_.

 

John laughed and shifted his weight around Bane’s cock. Bane could feel that delicious pressure all the way in his toes. John lay himself back until he was sprawled, open and willing across the sheets. “Well then, have me, big guy. I’m all yours.”

 

It was the best permission John could give.

 

***

Bane mated John for days, stopping only to allow John to eat and sleep and hydrate himself. Bane didn’t eat or sleep himself, choosing only to watch over John, determined to prevent him from being mated by another. His hands were on John at all times, and he barely blinked for keeping John always in his line of sight.

 

He barely allowed John to call into work sick, permitted it only when John made the call with his cock still up inside him after a round of their mating.

 

“Fuck, you’re a goddamn sex machine,” John said, eyes blown, as Bane rutted against his thigh, his teeth clamped down on the skin of his neck. Bane merely growled as he came, before moving his hand to scoop his come up and sink it into the wetness of John’s entrance.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

"God, Bane, stop."  
  
Bane had John on his belly, holding John's hips up himself to thrust inside. John was trembling now, tired and oversated from their mating.  He fell asleep readily after their sex, rising only when Bane would slip back inside him.  
  
Bane couldn't stop; he could barely make himself breathe when he wasn't inside John, filling him with his seed. The hunger inside him grew every time he saw John's flat belly, saw his come wasted and trickling down the insides of John's thighs. In those terrible moments where his cock softened to the point even his baculum could not keep himself inside John, he would scoop his own tacky spendings off the skin of John's thighs and plunge it back inside John's wet heat.  
  
"It hurts," John croaked out, burying his face in the sheets. "It hurts." John's hand found its way to grip Bane held on his hips, weak hands pushing away with trembling fingers.  
  
A pool of guilt unspooled in Bane's belly, even as he lifted John's hips higher up and sank himself entirely inside. John made a sweet high note in the back of his throat, wetness forming at the corners of his eyes.  
  
Bane lifted John's upper body close enough to lick away those small tears, even as he reached for John's cock.  
  
John keened when he cupped his soft cock in his hand, gently stroking his oversensitive flesh. "Shh, Shh." Bane pressed soft kisses to John's hair and gently worked his hand to stroke John's cock to life.  
  
John slowly hardened in his hand, even as he squirmed and panted in his grip. "No. No. No. I can't." John moaned, his whole body flushing.  
  
Bane stroked gently, carefully coaxing John's cock to life with soft touches of the backs and fingertips of his hands. The timbre of John's noises switched from pain to pleasure. "I can't, I can't," he panted, but his hips arched back into Bane's and his begging no longer sounded like pained gasps.

 

“There.” Bane rumbled low into John’s ear. “You are my mate. I will fill you with my cubs, and the swell of your stomach will show the world that you are _mine_.”

 

John sobbed out onto the sheets. “You kinky fuck. I better not get pregnant.” He scrabbled for a moment against the sheets, trying to move himself so that Bane’s every stroke inside him didn’t end up brushing his oversensitive prostate. Bane held him in place despite his squirmings, continuing to milk his pleasure from him. Finally, John lay completely still against the sheets, allowing Bane utter control over his body.

 

Bane gripped him surely, manipulated John’s body until he was rested comfortably against the sheets, his face tilted to the side to make it easy for him to breathe. John could relax like this, simply allowing Bane to wring an orgasm from them both before they rested.

 

Bane stroked John gently down his spine before he angled John’s hips up further. His mate was so beautiful, the side of his face not pressed into the sheets flushed red with exertion and arousal, and his dark un-gelled hair falling soft over his eyes. Bane couldn’t help but stare at the face of his mate. “Our cubs will be strong and beautiful, as you are.”

 

John made a face, tucking his head further into the sheets. Bane allowed it, resuming his steady pace inside John, fucking him until John’s whole body went rigid and stiff. “Oh fuck, I didn’t think I could come. Bane! Don’t make me come, don’t make me—“ Bane leaned over to press kisses over the expanse of John’s shoulders, gentling him, working him through it with soft strokes of his hand on John’s cock.

 

“Give me your orgasm, beloved.”

 

John came with a keen like he was dying, his whole body clenching and releasing before he went utterly still and spent, his mouth falling open and eyes glazing in an expression of utter bliss.

 

That was enough for his Bear. Bane leaned forward and buried himself inside John. It almost hurt to come now at this late stage of his rut, but still his body drove him deep into John.

 

His arms felt like noodles, and he couldn’t feel his legs. Gently he rolled off of John, turned instead to scoop him into a spooning position

 

For the first time in days, Bane slept.

 

 

 

***

Bane woke up sore and tired. John was pinned underneath him, their skin glued together with their come. For the first time in days it felt like he fit neatly into his own skin.

 

“Are you awake?” John said.

 

Bane nodded. He reached up one hand to caress John’s face. His hand trembled.

 

“Good. Then you can carry me to the fucking bathroom.” Guilt flared to violent life. Quickly, Bane stumbled out of bed. He unwrapped John from the tangled mess of their ruined sheets, blanching even more at each new mark and bruise that was revealed. John’s body was a mess of bite marks and finger-shaped bruises along his thighs and ass, along the curve of his neck and the flare of his waist. He gently scooped John up into his arms and carried him to the bathroom.

 

He put John down gently in the shower, fixed the water for him. He slunk guiltily out when John shooed him away. But Bane’s bear brain wouldn’t allow him to leave John unattended in the bathroom. He sat outside the closed door and listened to the sounds of John under the shower water. It was a long time before John came out, limping, their biggest towel draped around his waist.

 

He nearly tripped over Bane. “Goddammit, Bane, why are you lurking on the floor like that.”

 

Bane rose from the floor to steady John in his arms. His skin crawled with the realization that the scent of himself on John was faint now underneath the smell of John’s bodywash.

 

Bane reached to pick John up once more, but John stayed him with a gentle touch on his wrist. “Will you change the sheets?”

 

“I am sorry I so ill-used you,” Bane blurted out. 

 

“You better be, big guy, my ass is so fucking sore I—“ John saw Bane’s face. “Oh.” John reached up one hand to rub the back of his neck. “Let’s change the sheets and we’ll talk, ok?”

 

Bane made John stand still while he changed the sheets, refusing to let him help. John looked so vulnerable now, clutching at his towel and so exhausted from Bane’s rut.

 

When they were changed, John sat gingerly on the clean sheets, almost immediately laying back and shifting to the side to rest his weight on his hip and away from his ass. “Here,” John patted the sheets beside him. Bane slowly curled up next to him, every single muscle in his body aching to reach out and hold onto John. John was weak now from their long mating, susceptible to the chill.

 

John looked at him. “Ok, first of all, what was that?” John gestured with one hand at all of Bane.

 

“I went into rut,” Bane said dully. All he could see was John rolling into bed gingerly on endless repeat. “I needed to mate.” Bane hesitated for a long moment, until he felt as if the silence of the room was bearing down hard enough upon him to crush his skull.

 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” John asked.

 

“I intended to sleep through it, until I found you waiting for me. Then, I could not resist.”

 

John nodded once, chewing on his lower lip. Bane longed to pull it from between his teeth, to state that the only one to chew on John’s gorgeous lips would be him. He refrained.

 

John scooted closer to Bane on the sheets and reached out one hand, tentative, to brush against his arm. 

 

"I liked it," John whispered.

  
Bane stopped moving. He forgot even to breathe.

  
John wriggled his way closer, until he was entirely encompassed by the curve of Bane's arms. "I like it when things are a little bit rough." He buried his face into Bane's neck, his nose was the smallest tickle against his skin. "Being... used like that, it flips a switch in my brain. You are usually very gentle with me, always aware of our size difference, always careful to make sure I'm not in pain. I liked it." John's voice dropped to a whisper once more. "That's not to say I want it like that all of the time.” John paused, licked his chapped lips. “But these past couple days were really good for me, to know that you needed _me,_ that I was your mate, and that you were so desperate for me you’d have me either way." John curled his fingers around Bane's shoulders. "I like being yours, even as you're mine. You're my bear." John said he last with a smile quirking his lips. "Yeah?"

  
Bane couldn't help but draw John into his chest, until he made a small 'oof'ing sound as the air rushed out of him. Bane felt panicked for a long moment, until he could convince himself of the weight and breadth of John in his arms.

  
John relaxed into his arms, brought up one of his own hands to stroke over the skin of Bane’s shoulder. “You’re my big ol’ bear,” he whispered.

 

 

 

 


End file.
